Suicide Watch
by Siren of Hell
Summary: Harry has sunk into a deep depression after Sirius’s death. Can Draco pull him back up into the real world again? Especially considering the trials he will face in the holidays before his sixth year alone. HD SLASH
1. Prologue

Suicide Watch  
  
Author: Siren of Hell  
  
Rating: R at the moment – character death is probable, will be Dark.  
  
Summary: Harry has sunk into a deep depression after Sirius's death. Can Draco pull him back up into the real world again? Especially considering the trials he will face in the holidays before his sixth year alone.  
  
Pairing: H/D – at the moment that's all... possible more in future shrug dunno yet...  
  
Timeline: Set after OotP  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, check my wallet if you don't believe me!  
  
Dedication:... I dunno, I suppose my kitty-cat (btw ale, if you didn't get that, that's you!), coz I haven't dedicated anything to you yet... though I was going to dedicate that fic I write on the idea you gave me -bout a rewrite of the forth book-, but I suppose that I can dedicate both to you... anyway my ramble is now over... so yeah... dedicated to Ale!  
  
Prologue  
  
Harry felt the pain recede as he embedded the blade into his wrist. It was finally over, he was done. He didn't have to feel any more, didn't have to feel pain, feel guilt, feel the hopelessness. As the blood trickled from his veins, so did thoughts from his head. Everything fell away and all that was left was absolution. Blackness overcame him and he let go.  
  
Dudley was whining, one of his favourite pass-times. He found that with adequate whining he could get just about anything he wanted. Unfortunately that didn't include food. His mother was sticking to his diet, and unlike previous holiday he was finding it impossible to smuggle in food; his dad had been searching him and his bags every time he entered the house, and he didn't leave it without supervision. The diet was working; he was half the weight he had been the previous summer, but the school nurse thought he could still stand to lose more weight. So he had a lot to whine about, and while his mother loved him, the hours of whining were bound to get on any ones nerves.  
  
"Muh-uuuuuuuuuuuum, I'm hungry. I want dinner, and I want it now!"  
  
"It'll be ready it a minute honey," she said sweetly, "Now be a dear and go and get your father."  
  
Dudley grumbled but moved into the den to collect his father.  
  
"HARRY! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW YOU DRATTED BOY!" came a shrill cry from the kitchen.  
  
Dudley and Vernon both visibly winced at the tone of voice, thankful that it was rarely turned on them. Ten minutes later the three were sitting round the kitchen table, steaming plates (of some health food shrug not my forte), television blaring. Harry had still not appeared.  
  
"Muh-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuum, where is he? I want to eat!" Dudley whined.  
  
"HARRY," Petunia called for the sixth time in the direction of the stairs.  
  
The family sat for another minute in silence waiting.  
  
"I don't see why we can't just eat," Dudley grumbled.  
  
"You know very well why," Vernon hissed, "Who knows what those freaks would do if they found out we weren't feeding him properly."  
  
"Dudley, would you please go up and get him?" Petunia asked her son sweetly.  
  
"Do I have to?" Dudley groaned, but seeing his mother's look he raised himself from his chair and stomped off towards his second bedroom.  
  
As he topped the stairs his thumps as he walked became almost perfectly silent; for some reason he felt it was wrong to make any noise. When he thought about it, the top of the house was deadly silent. Usually there were screeches from Harry's annoying owl, or the faint buzz of a television that he had left on, but now there was absolute silence. He crept, for reasons unknown to him, along the corridor towards the closed door at the end of the hall. The door seemed somehow haunting, towering above him, and Dudley knew that he didn't want the open it. He didn't want to know what lay beyond that door.  
  
He pushed it open cautiously, not prepared for the scene that greeted his wide innocent eyes. His terror filled scream brought the other occupants of the house to his side. Together they viewed the bloody mess that was Harry Potter... former.  
  
To be continued... Please please please! Need feedback!  
  
Spoilers for Chapter 1  
  
Harry's eyes fluttered open, before he winced and closed them again. Pain invaded. His body, his mind, his heart.  
  
He felt broken.  
  
He was broken.  
  
"God you're so boring when you're unconscious!"  
  
The annoying whine broke into the protective bubble of oblivion he had wrapped himself in.  
  
He groaned when he realised just who it was that had spoken... 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
AN: oooooooooo means the start of a dream and 000000000000means the end of that dream.  
  
Harry's eyes fluttered open, before he winced and closed them again. Pain invaded. His body, his mind, his heart.  
  
He felt broken.  
  
He was broken.  
  
"God you're so boring when you're unconscious!"  
  
The annoying whine broke into the protective bubble of oblivion he had wrapped himself in.  
  
He groaned when he realised just who it was that had spoken.  
  
Harry opened his mouth, a scathing comment ready to fire at the blond sitting beside his bed, but all that came was silence. The muscles in his face too tired to even form words.  
  
It was only then that Harry began to notice his surroundings. The hospital wing hadn't changed since the last time he had visited, which was only a few weeks prior. Or he thought it was a few weeks prior, he didn't know how long he had been out, though by the dryness in his mouth, he guessed quite a while.  
  
The room was a blur of colours and shapes without his glasses, but still recognisable due to his long stays. It was almost like coming home.  
  
Almost.  
  
His thoughts trailed of into wisps of smoke and he could not grasp a single one. He drifted back into the depth of sleep.  
  
From beside his bed, Draco sighed at the unconscious boy.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The darkness was comforting. It offered peace, silence. It was an escape. In the blackness no one could touch him, hurt him, worship him, blame him. It was safe.  
  
He wanted to stay forever, swimming alone in the dark swirls in the very depth of his mind.  
  
The black mist was swirling, changing. Forming colours and then shapes. They all bled together and a scene built itself up around him.  
  
Dew kissed his cheek where he lay in the dark cemetery. It was no longer filed with Death Eaters as it had been during his last visit, though he could see smears of his blood tainting the grass, indicating that it had not been long since they had left. The night air around his quivering figure was still and silent. Nothing moved and nothing spoke, but death was in the air.  
  
Harry curled up into a ball; he knees drawn tightly to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. A feeling of dread began to overcome him. Bad things always happened around him; his taint was already in this place. Cedric had already lost his life here, because of him. Just like Sirius.  
  
Upon the though Cedric appeared in front of him. His body mangled and decayed. His eyes, cold like ice, bore into Harry until Harry could do nothing but stare at the ruined wreck that used to be a man. No not a man, a young boy, a boy who had never even begun to live. It was all...  
  
"Your fault," the raspy whisper came from what was left of Cedric.  
  
Harry couldn't breath.  
  
"N-no," Harry stuttered, "I'm sorry. God I'm so sorry."  
  
"You think that's enough? Sorry? It'll never be enough!"  
  
Cedric's word dug into his soul, ripping him apart. Tears began to slide silently down his face.  
  
Then, with a swirl, Cedric was replaced with Sirius.  
  
"Harry?" Sirius called out, reaching for him, his arm just out of reach.  
  
"S-si-sirius, I-I'm here," Harry barely managed to whisper.  
  
The warmth and love drained from Sirius's eyes leaving cold hard anger.  
  
"It's your fault Harry. It's all your fault."  
  
"N-no," Harry sobbed.  
  
"It's your fault I'm dead! It's your fault you parents are dead. We would have all been better off if you'd never been born!"  
  
Like Cedric's words, they burned and ripped right through his core, leaving him empty. Until there was nothing left inside.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Perspiration covered his shaking form as his eyes flickered open. Dudley sat beside his bed instead of Draco, as it had been the last time he woke up. Perhaps that had been a dream too.  
  
Pain was making his head feel like it was going to explode and he surprised himself by letting out a groan. The sound seemed to awaken Dudley from his trance like state, bringing his startled eyes from one of the moving portraits hung around the room to Harry.  
  
"Yo-you're awake?"  
  
Harry glared.  
  
The situation seemed to finally hit Dudley and he stood abruptly, the chair he was sitting on topples to the ground.  
  
"You awake! Wait here! Don't move! I'll go get Madame Pomphrey!"  
  
'Move', harry thought, 'where would I move to? I can barely keep my eyes open let alone move!'  
  
He continued to stare at Dudley's retreating back side.  
  
As soon as the door swung shut behind Dudley, a pail figure moved from the shadows, exposing himself to Harry.  
  
Harry glanced at Malfoy.  
  
'Not a dream then', he thought.  
  
"Well, well Potter. Nice to see you awake. Finally," his voice was scathing and with it came the memories of his dream, "Finally tried to off yourself huh? Personally I'm surprised you hadn't done it sooner. You've got to admit, you're kinda loopy."  
  
Malfoy was smirking and Harry wanted to leap from the bed and pounce. Then punch until his palms were covered in blood and the monster beneath him no longer moved.  
  
"Shut up," he weakly managed to reply.  
  
Malfoy chuckled; an evil chuckled from low in his throat.  
  
"How did it feel Harry? When the knife slid into you flesh? Like a warm knife in butter? Did your heart race? Did it feel good? Well did it!?!"  
  
Malfoy was shouting by the time that he ended his speech. Harry feared he would pick the closest thing and throw it as hard as he could.  
  
"Fool," Malfoy continued, his voice calmed and deadly soft, "You idiotic stupid little boy! How dare you try and do that to yourself? You have no right! You're not the only one who has lost people who they loved in this war! You have no right. You're just a weak pathetic waste of space!"  
  
Harry said nothing and merely turned his head away from Malfoy to face the opposite wall.  
  
"One day Potter, I will have the great pleasure of watching you burn, but not now, not today. You will not kill yourself!"  
  
It was an order. An order which Malfoy expected him to obey, but he couldn't. There was no way he could keep living. He had though it was the end, thought that it was finally over. But no, they had dragged him back from the peace of death into life. And life was cold and harsh and bright and violent. He wanted to leave it and sleep forever.  
  
Malfoy had been like his Prince Charming and had woken him from his eternal sleep.  
  
Prince Charming should be shot, or at least hexed into oblivion.  
  
A scuffling on the other side of the door interrupted Malfoy's rant and he sunk back into the shadows around the edge of the room. Madam Pomphrey entered seconds later, closely followed by Professor Dumbledore, Magonigal, surprisingly Snape and an excited Dudley.  
  
Pomphrey stood above him, casting spell and checking his responses for a few minutes.  
  
"He's still weak from the blood loss, and these scars will stay with him forever. Other than that, he's fine," Madam Pomphrey told the Headmaster.  
  
"Excellent, excellent. Now I think perhaps that it is time for Harry and I to talk."  
  
Harry remained silent.  
  
Dumbledore looked expectantly at the occupants of the room.  
  
"A little privacy maybe?" he asked gently, a twinkle of amusement in his eye.  
  
The adults all looked a little embarrassed and trooped out of the room without another word. Dudley seemed as if he were going to protest but changed his mind, and with a final look at Harry he also left the room.  
  
The room was silent and Dumbledore looked into the shadows knowingly.  
  
"Draco I believe you mother wanted to speak with you in her sitting room."  
  
Malfoy extracted himself from the shadows, gave Dumbledoor a death glare and swept out of the room, not looking at Harry once.  
  
Dumbledoor turned his concerned eyes to Harry.  
  
"Now that we're alone Harry, I think there are a few things we aught to discuss."  
  
End of chapter 1  
  
To be continued...  
  
Please please please feedback! I need to know if people like it at all and weather I should keep writing!  
  
A/N: Hello all! Thanks so much to Jessi Malfoy and KitFoxGurl who reviewed! It inspired me to write the next chapter q whole lot faster! hands each a bunch of double choc chip cookies Thank you guys so much!  
  
Also, I would like to apologise in advance because there will be no updates to this fic (or any of my others) for at least a wont. I'm really sorry but I'm going on vacation and wont have access to a computer or the internet. When I get back I promise you an extra long chapter!


	3. Chapter 2

SUICIDE WATCH Chapter Two

Disclaimer: not mine

Everything else is in the prologue!

---

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed softly.

Finally Harry looked up at him. Dumbledore looked every bit the frail old man that he really was, beneath his jovial personality and brightly coloured robes. He sat wearily in the uncomfortable plastic chair that was positioned beside Harry's bed. Harry's eyes once again focused on his own lap.

"I'm not going to yell at you, Harry," Dumbledore began in a soft murmur, "You are old enough to make your own decisions and I will not stand in the way of that. Neither will I lecture you, even if I thought you'd listen, you have no reason to. Especially from me."

Harry did not respond, lying docile in the mass of sheets and pillows.

"But you must understand; I am very disappointed in you," he said gravely.

Harry's posture wilted, if possible, even more into the white sheets.

"I will not press the issue. It is yours to work through with your friends and the ones you trust. There is something more I must discuss with you, something that you may not like, but I ask you to hear me through before attacking me... or yourself."

Harry gave a slight nod of acceptance but made no other moves.

"It is regarding Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger."

Harry's looked up at Dumbledore once again, a plea in his eyes. Dumbledore regretted that he had to tell him this, cause him more pain, and leave his plea unanswered.

"They have been taken, by Voldomort. A disgusting move on his part."

"He's trying to weaken me. Make me feel hopeless," Harry finally spoke, his voice scratchy and rough from disuse.

"I also came to that conclusion," Dumbledore confirmed his suspicions sadly.

"It won't work," Harry said, his voice dead and devoid of any emotion.

"And why not?" Dumbledore asked, a white eyebrow delicately arched on his face.

"Because I don't feel anything any more."

Both men were silent.

---

Hermione sobbed quietly in the darkest corner of their tiny cell. Ron had given up trying to comfort her hours, maybe it was days, ago. She couldn't tell how exactly long they'd been there, as the cell lacked the means by which she would otherwise have been able to deduct that information. The 'room' was utterly devoid of windows.

It was small, not ideal accommodation for someone who was claustrophobic. The walls, ceiling and floor were made of rough, dark grey stone. Somehow water managed to dribble through the cracks, keeping the walls cool and damp, feeding the soft green moss that grew on them. One wall was made up of solid steel bars, making their humiliation complete with a steady stream of passing spectators. Death Eaters desperate to get a look at the Boy-Who-Lived's lackeys.

The only furniture was a small hard cot that Ron was currently occupying. He had not yet given up hope that Harry would come. He would come and rescue them. He was the hero. That's what he did. He would rescue them for sure. That was why Ron wasn't curled up in a corner sobbing himself stupid like Hermionie. He hadn't given up. He knew Harry would come. He always came.

---

Stupid fucking Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived. Why couldn't he just die? He didn't deserve to live! Other people deserved life so much more, like Pa... No, he refused to think about Pansy. It was too painful.

Draco growled as he stomped into his new 'home'. Pitiful excuse for a home, if you asked him. One, yes only one parlour, two bedrooms and one bathroom. One bathroom to share between two people, no, two Malfoys! Didn't Dumbledore understand how long it took for a Malfoy to become presentable in the morning?

Obviously not!

Slumped in a chair, Draco growled again. Stupid Harry Fucking Potter for trying to kill himself. Stupid Dumbledore for only giving what remained of his family one bathroom. Stupid Pansy for going and getting herself stupidly blown up by that bloody idiotic half-blood moron, with the absolute crappiest name in the world. Voldemort! What the hell kind of name is Voldemort? A fucking stupid name, that's what! Stupid fucking Voldemort.

"Draco? Are you quite finished yet?" came the delicate voice from one corner of the room.

Draco glared at his mother, who had put down her book to watch him rant under his breath. He had been so caught up in it that he hadn't realised he had been doing it.

"Well? Finished?"

"Quite," Draco said, the single word punctuated with yet another glare.

"Would you like to talk about it, perhaps?"

Draco glared again.

"Careful, the wind will change and you'll be stuck that way," his mother remarked with a smirk.

Draco's only reply was to glare. Some more.

"The Potter boy has woken up then?"

Another glare.

"I suppose Dumbledore is telling him about his friends?"

The glare was really getting old.

"And I suppose he interrupted your new favourite past time of 'Harry watching'?"

His eyes narrowed even more, making his glare slightly more evil.

"That would explain the mood then."

Draco jumped from the chair and stalked into his pitiful excuse of a room, slamming the door behind him. His mother smiled slightly at the closed door, before picking up her book again.

---

Dudley paced. It was not an activity that was common to him but he had found, since moving into his new quarters (which lacked a television set), that it helped him think. Again this was not an activity that he partook of often, until, of course, that night.

He still shuddered when he thought about it. The entire room bathed in red, like some horrific nightmare. And _his_ body, sprawled in the middle of the mess. He had looked so... so _dead_.

And since that moment he had begun this newly-acquired habit of thinking. And after the thinking began he started to see _everything_ differently. The fact that he was a spoilt brat was the first major revelation that he'd had. The fact that Harry was his cousin, his flesh and blood, his _family _had followed closely. So since 'that day' he had decided to change his ways, redeem himself, despite the fact that it sounded like a cheesy 80s B grade movie.

He stopped pacing and made his way to the door of his room; Harry should be ready to speak to him by now.

TBC...

Please R&R

Authors note: Hi all! I just wanted to thank everyone so much for reviewing! It means so much to me!!! And I apologise about the delay in updating but I've been busy with school work and just life in general! I promise that the next chapter will be out sooner! Probably two or three weeks, after I finish exams! Thank you all for your patience and I hope you'll continue to bear with me!


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